I believe in the kinds of gyms that are supposed to be grungy-looking with a profound dungeon-feel. The one that kick-starts your central nervous system by the dilation of the eyes as you enter it, where it’s fairly loud with metal clanking and comes across intimidating on various levels, where grunts run, no lunk alarms, along with sprinkled friendliness and ironhood, where the air is thick with the sweat and blood of like-minded individuals who come to the gym for assorted reasons but all remain for one in particular: To obtain gains.

So those people who complain about stinky gyms, towels on the floors, weights never being racked, who are too busy staring at their cell-phones than glancing at their workout program, who become unfocused by the sheer silhouette of a man or woman, who don’t know a single difference between a front versus a back squat or grumble about how the gym isn’t pretty enough because it’s missing the state-of-the-art equipment make me, to be honest, want to vomit in their goddamn mouths. FUCK THEM!

Look, I understand it’s all about the personality and the behavior and the perspective and the yada yada of a person. But I always dreamt of going to the gym I recently signed up with, just shy of two weeks and where I started training at 2 days ago. It’s a gym that’s successfully nerve-racking by Hammer Strength eye-popping jazzy blue machines that look like smaller versions of Transformers. These transformers are all set at center stage of the gym itself, so no matter what spot you’re in you’re feeling the next guy’s super-buff energy entering your personal space. You have a few choices: Cancel your membership, get used to it, or get angry and join the crowd in raging fun!

I want to go into a gym and see freak of natures whether genetically natural or juiced up to resemble a King Kong god! FUCK walking into a place where everyone knows your name. I want to be in the gym where everyone knows you by your deadlifts, your escalating numbers, your awe-inspiring training partner and the muscular shadow on the wall.

And now I do!

I’m at a place where the owner knows everyone personally, where he came up to me after I finished a set, shook my hand and said, “If there’s anything you need or any problem you have, tell me and I’ll fix it” while asking about my injured shoulder because we were friends on Facebook before I became a gym member. He actually took the time to get to know me and read my statuses as I took the time to learn about his gym and even promoted the Powerlifting Competition as a way of saying thank you.

I’m at a place where a naked woman could walk in the center of the gym like the whores in a boxing ring holding up cards of round numbers and the beasts of the gym wouldn’t flinch for shit. They aren’t there for eye-candy. It’s not only because there’s a handful of women around but because they’re there for serious gains. I’m at a gym where men rock colorful tights and rock big bulges during their million snatch performances.

I’m at a place where I asked one of the lifters, “What’s your favorite body part to train?” And he single-handedly states, “Squats.” Favorite body part to train? Well, we don’t think under these terms. And I get it. So, this lets me know I’m in the right place. I’m among the like-minded individuals.

On the same day I chatted up one of the hardcore females at this new gym and she mentioned she takes Tae Kwon Do (in the vicinity), sparred with a guy, broke her finger and the master put it back into place like nothing. Apparently, she took that shit like a champ! – where another woman at another gym club would have fucking sued! I’m going to say only flaccid soft penises and soft pussies sue. Unless of course the gym didn’t do anything to take care of you in every way possible, then they deserve to get sued.

Still I’m at a place where there’s camaraderie, it’s a respected community, whether young or old, big beer-belly or slim-twig. We’re all are at a common ground. Rather than dirty looks and gymtimidation, guys come up to me and out of the blue offer me chalk for my deadlifts. One guy saw me taking off the first two 45lb plates with 6 more to go on a High-Iso Hammer Strength transformer machine. Unexpectedly for me, he came by and said, “Let me help you” and he just took off the rest.

So I’m at a place where I need to get used to countless plates being on benches, Squat Racks and Hammer Strength machines but it’s okay because I feel I belong here. I trained with as many plates as possible when I first started training back in 2003 and some people wonder why I’m strong. *Sings* I started from the bottom now I’m here. (I hate that fucking song!) But maybe I need to train like how I used to in the beginning; stacking plates so I can maintain my motivation?

My current theme lately on this blog as you can see is how I’m lacking motivation. So much so, I’ve been thinking about taking a hiatus for a few months away from the gym. I’m still reflecting and speculating on the countless reasons as to why I may want to do this. One of the biggest reasons why I thought about this break from the gym is because I’m tired of forcing myself into the gym for the past few months with zero motivation.

However, being in this new gym and training among a crew of cool powerlifters and bodybuilders, I’m starting to think I can turn this attitude over. I can be motivated again because this is where I need to be and like the gym owner told me, “We need the gym even if it’s to keep hope alive.”